


Jump in the Line

by TheShinySword



Series: Holiday (MocaChisa Rarepair Week Summer 2020) [4]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Aya Maruyama: Delusion Convince Yourself, Bandori Rarepair Week, Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword
Summary: Aya Maruyama is in big trouble, there's someone new waiting in her handshake line and she's pretty sure Chisato is about to strangle her. But it's not her fault if Moca's a fan!?
Relationships: Aoba Moca & Maruyama Aya, Aoba Moca/Shirasagi Chisato
Series: Holiday (MocaChisa Rarepair Week Summer 2020) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769263
Comments: 14
Kudos: 82





	Jump in the Line

**Author's Note:**

> We're past the halfway point! Wow!  
> Day 4: Competition.

When Aya Maruyama was seven years old she took construction paper and cardboard and built a little booth in the middle of her living room. Then she carefully wrote out her name with sparkly markers in the biggest characters she could manage with a quick rendition of her own face—with the bright pink hair she’d have as soon as she was big enough to dye it—underneath. She cut out strips of floppy red paper and wrote ‘one’ on each before handing them out to her mother and father and instructing them to form a line in front of her booth for the privilege of shaking her hand. They got ten seconds per ticket. She counted. If they wanted more tickets they’d have to buy her first single (recorded on the finest speak and spell technology). Aya knew with hard work, determination and a little image training, she’d force the world to let her dreams come true.

And now Aya was living her greatest dreams at age eighteen. She had her very own handshaking events every month. Although, when she’d pictured her future idol career she’d never quite imagined the sweltering heat of a humid mid-august basement with her four closest friends and two hundred sweat soaked fans desperate to shake their hands. There was significantly less sweat in her imagination.

But that couldn’t quell the excitement she felt every time Pastel Palettes’ agents led them out to their five individual tables where their five individual lines waited. From left to right: Eve, Hina, Aya, Chisato, and Maya. The largest line was in the center… okay the largest line was slightly to the left of center because Hina’s line always outpaced Aya’s just a little—but after THAT… was Chisato’s line but she had a whole career of fans already so really it was impressive that AFTER THAT was Aya’s line!

Aya waved happily at the pastel perfect pigtailed girl in the front of the line. Pareo led her line at practically every event. As an idol Aya cherished all of her fans… but she totally had favorites and Pareo was at the tippy top of the list. She was so lucky to have such an adorable young fan. She skimmed down the rest of the line. There was Oda, a burly man who always noticed when her dancing improved, Mari, a housewife who had memorized every new Aya pose, Kousuke who led all her chants and, of course—MOCA AOBA?!

Why was Moca Aoba standing in the middle of her line? Aya looked around for the punchline but all she saw was Moca yawning and fanning her face with a paper replica of Aya’s head. Why was Moca Aoba standing in her line dressed in full Aya apparel? She had the pink penlights, the Aya paper fans, the Maruyama headband, ‘fluffy and pink’ t-shirt, the bubblegum colored happi with Aya’s face plastered over it and even the one time exclusive release Round Mountain denim cutoffs! Moca had never come to an event before and even if she did—if she did—

Aya creaked her head to the side, terrified sweat joining the sweat from the heat, as she met Chisato’s cold, frozen smile.

SHOULDN’T SHE BE HER GIRLFRIEND’S NUMBER ONE FAN?

Aya was still a little foggy on specifics of their relationship after her WcRonalds’ mix up a few weeks ago. She’d been so certain she’d stumbled into a dramatic and exciting MocaxMayaxKaoru love triangle! She’d been calling them MoMaKa for short, it was a totally sparkling sort of name! But alas, Chisato clarified the situation later: she was dating Moca, Kaoru and Maya were not involved. Confusingly the next week Maya and Kaoru had starting dating each other but Aya chalked that up to her uncanny precognitive powers.

Nothing had really changed in their lives. Chisato was exactly the same as she had been before she dated Moca, except she smiled a little more at her phone and there was always a slight chance when she said she was going to an appointment she was actually talking about making out with her girlfriend in secret. Once again, Chisato’s life was so much more exciting than hers. She wanted to sneak off to make out town too! But if she ever said that out loud Hina would probably jump her in the middle of practice and start kissing her on the spot… maybe she should say something.

Except they weren’t _supposed_ to date anyone. Technically, it was a line in their contracts—more like a page actually. There were penalties and fines and blah blah fan expectations blah. Did they really think a piece of paper could stop teen passions?!

Yes, their producers absolutely did. Eve was the one, of all people, who brought up the dating question in a meeting once (something about starting her search for a raven haired beauty). She’d been immediately shut down by smiling producers who insisted it was _very_ important that they keep their personal lives squeaky clean and devoted wholly to their fans. End of discussion, no more questions. Bleeeeh. If her bandmates wanted to kiss then smooch smooch!

“The event is beginning! The first person in each line may step forward,” A producer shouted out behind them. Each fan had twenty seconds with them, kept strict by the girls’ individual stopwatch equipped production assistants at the side.

Aya pushed her confusion and kissing related irritation out of her head and plastered on her brightest smile for Pareo. “Hi Pareo-chan!”

“Great show today! I’m always rooting for you!” Pareo’s hands were comfortable, a little big for a middle schooler but that only made them more pleasant to hold tight. There wasn’t time to talk long, so fans mostly resorted to the usual platitudes but that was more than enough for Aya! She’d listen to the usual platitudes all day! All night even!

“Next!”

A sudden chill ran up Aya’s spine. She clung to Pareo’s hand, shivering. “T-t-thank you for coming.”

“I think it’s time for me to go?” Pareo laughed nervously as she slowly pulled her hand away.

Without Pareo, Aya could feel the full pressure of Chisato’s glare at her side. She withered on the spot. Aya spun around, trying to catch Chisato in the act but all she found was Chisato smiling and chatting with a fan, polite and courteous as could be. Maybe she was just imagining things. It wasn’t Aya’s fault Moca was in her line after all.

“Aya-chan! You only messed up three numbers today! Good work!”

“Next!”

“That was the fluffiest and pinkest you’ve ever been!”

“Next!”

“I’m really more of a Hina fan but her line was full so you’re cool too I guess?”

“NEXT!”

The heat was making Aya dizzy, or maybe it was how often she whipped her head back and forth, trying to catch the eyes drilling into her she felt from her right. It wasn’t her fault! Whatever was wrong was totally completely not her fault!

Aya grabbed her next fan’s hand with her trademark Maruyama mountain high smile—it was going to be a thing, she would make it a thing—when the banter from Chisato’s side caught her ear.

"Tell me,” Chisato said with a steel smooth voice and the sly smile Aya only knew from her “off duty” persona. Her hand was strangling her fan’s wrist. “You would never wait in someone else's line, would you?"

The barrel chested fan in front of her faltered a moment before bursting out with an admirable enthusiasm. "O-Of course not Chisato-chan! You're my favorite! You can only have one favorite!"

Hold on Chisato! The Chisato Shirasagi of Pastel Palettes was a wise older sister type not a jealous sadist. Aya gaped dumbly, her own fan politely trying to catch her attention and failing.

"Good,” Chisato chirped, snapping back into idol mode and relinquishing his hand. “Please continue to support me.”

“Y-yes ma’am,” He stammered. The man walked away with a lopsided smile, massaging his wrist.

“Next!”

“Yo~ Aya-chan!”

Aya jumped out of her skin like Moca Aoba was the suddenly appearing slasher in one of those horrible old movies Hina loved so much. Would a serial killer done up in so much pink with those little denim cutoffs—Aya really needed to stop agreeing to every collaboration—still be scary? Would that hide the blood or make it worse? Wait! What was she thinking about?! That had nothing to do with anything.

“He he,” Moca leaned forward across the table with her lazy grin in place. “Quite the face journey you just went through, I get why Chisato talks about you so much.”

“C-Chisato-chan talks about me?!” Aya forgot entirely about her internal Moca Krueger tangent and swiped up Moca’s hand in both of her own. “Seriously?”

“Mmm hmm mmmmm hmmm,” Moca nodded as Aya pumped their hands up and down, “Made ‘ol Moca-chan here a biiiiig fan. As you can see from my sick gear.”

A big fan? Could it be Moca was just a fan after all? Was she… an Aya _stan_? Was Aya Moca’s _oshi_?

Aya wiggled in place at the thought. Of course, she wasn’t competing with her bandmates. Not at all. They were all in it together!

…

But if it _was_ a competition, it’d be pretty cool to win over her own bassist’s girlfriend. And to win her over to the point she was completely decked out from head to toe in gear that cost more than a couple of bun runs? Well, Aya would have to be a preeeeeetty good idol for that.

“Hina-senpai’s right too, your faces are so funny!”

Pretty AND Funny? Wait, Moca called her pretty, right? Did Aya make that up? Whatever! Who cared?! This was Aya Maruyama’s moment!

“Next!”

And then it was done. She giggled gleefully to herself as Moca left, right until she glanced to the right and realized from lethal daggers shot from Chisato’s eyes she was exactly the length of one handshaking event from death.

* * *

Chisato’s real frustration was that she knew very well that she wouldn’t have to feel this nasty if she’d just set better boundaries with her girlfriend. She knew exactly when she should have firmly said ‘no’. They’d been lounging on Moca’s bed, just after making out or just before making out or maybe somewhere in the middle of making out—hanging around Moca’s room had become more and more about making out lately. Chisato was combing through Moca’s hair with her hand, pushing back her bangs and softly humming the tune of Wonderland Girl, when out of nowhere Moca said:

“I want to see you perform.”

“With Pastel Palettes?” Chisato paused in the middle of giving Moca a silly little topknot, silver hair spilling out of her fist like a fleshy scrunchy.

“Well if I can get you to play with Hello, Happy World that’d be pretty dope too.”

“You’ve seen me perform.” Chisato rolled her eyes—it had become a love language of sorts.

“Not live! A mere fancam can’t contain all of Chisato Shirasagi’s _Shirassen_ _c_ _e._ ”

Chisato scoffed, lifting her hands away so Moca’s bangs fell into her face. She ruffled her girlfriend’s face fringe until Moca looked a bit like a sheepdog blinded by its own hair. “I’ll get you a blu-ray.”

“It’s not the same without the whole experience!” Moca shimmied her head against Chisato’s lap, the ends of her bushy hair tickling the bare skin at the end of the idol’s shorts. “The concert, the glow sticks, waiting in line with a bunch of sweaty dudes after so Moca-chan can touch your hand for ten seconds!”

“If you want to touch me so badly you just have to reach out.”

As requested, Moca reached out. She touched Chisato’s cheek with the callused tips of her left hand as her blue eyes pleaded just a little. “Moca-chan promises to wear her best disguise.”

And she should have said no. Or hell no. But she’d gotten good at telling which jokes were jokes and which jokes were begging so instead Chisato reached back with her own callused hand and said, “okay.”

But she assumed by disguise Moca meant a mask or, knowing Moca, a fake mustache. She didn’t think she meant a full Aya fangirl cosplay! With those acursed JORTS. Where did she even get the Round Mountain JORTS? Only Hina Hikawa owned a pair.

It was such a stupid thing to be upset about. But Chisato couldn’t deny that she was upset. Jealous even. Jealous! Chisato Shirasagi was jealous because there were people she did not know, who did not know her girlfriend but now thought: wow, what a big Aya fan that girl with the silver hair and the giant mouth must be.

Chisato’s pride as a woman, a girlfriend and an idol were all wounded with distinct injuries.

It wasn’t that she wanted Moca to be her fan. She just didn’t want Moca to be anyone _else’s_ fan. Even as a disguise. It wasn’t Aya’s fault that Moca chose her, but Chisato couldn’t stop herself from glaring as if it was.

Chisato tried to focus on the devoted fans that had wast—spent their hard earned money on precious seconds of her time. How incredible was it that every one of them claimed to be her biggest fan? One of them had to be bigger than the others, though Chisato had no idea what the metric for devotion was. Perhaps devotion was counted in yen.

The thought made her glare at the poor fanboy in front of her. If devotion was cash then Moca had pledged herself to the altar of Aya. She stared holes in the side of Aya’s head again. On her right, Hina snickered at something, probably her. At least Hina was enjoying herself, she always did.

“Next!”

“Yo~.”

Chisato drew back at the sight of her girlfriend donned in her gay apparel. She thought Moca had left. The handshake tickets weren’t particularly cheap but she’d gotten two? “What ever are you doing here?”

“Just supporting my _oshi_ Aya-chan and visiting her loyal second in command.”

“Oh? So you’re an Aya fan now?” Chisato asked dryly. “What’s her call?”

“Eh?” Moca hadn’t expected a quiz.

The idol leaned in a little, tilting her head so her hair fell just so to expose the curve of her neck that Moca loved so much before cooly repeating, “What’s Aya-chan’s call? All her _biggest_ fans know it.”

Moca grinned. She pumped her fist in the air, flaring out a fan in the other. “Go! Aya-chan! Don’t fall Aya-chan!”

Surprisingly, that wasn’t too far off. For a bored little bun fiend looking for something to do on a Saturday afternoon, Moca was really into her role. But still, Chisato was irrationally pouting and she wouldn’t be swayed out of it by mild enthusiasm.

Chisato’s eyes narrowed as she drew her face into a sort of intentional cold disdain. “…Next.”

“Hold on, hold on~. I want my handshake.” Moca extended her hand like it was a 2x4—rigid and probably full of splinters.

Chisato wrestled back her instinct to roll her eyes and like a proper idol swallowed her feelings and took a hand she didn’t particularly want to shake. Despite Chisato’s attitude, Moca’s face lit up. She grabbed Chisato back, sliding her hand forward so the curves between their thumbs and forefingers locked together. Her grip was tight but not forceful, like the hugs she knew when to give without being asked. With Moca’s right hand pressed against her palm Chisato could appreciate how smooth her strumming fingers were compared to the calluses on the left. She didn’t mind the heat radiating out of Moca’s hand even in that stuffy, miserable basement.

With a little press of her thumb to the back of Chisato’s hand, Moca’s grin reduced down to a careful smile, “Heh. Moca-chan finally gets to hold your hand.”

Moca was the most ridiculous person Chisato had ever met. Her childish anger vanished instantly. She traded it entirely for a blossoming affection in the center of her heart for the girl in front of her who wanted something so simple and gone about getting it in the most complex manner possible. Because of course she did, because it was the only way they could.

So Chisato grabbed Moca by the collar and dragged her over the table, sending CDs skidding away, knocking down the t-shirt stands and the paper fans and those penlight—glow stick—light saber—whatevers and all the rest of the merchandise laid out to convince people who were already spending their life savings on things with Chisato’s face on them to spend their parent’s life savings on more things. She held Moca up with all the strength she’d earned from hours upon hours upon weeks upon months upon years of training she’d done so she could play and dance and entertain, and then she kissed her girlfriend with a passion that could leave no questions behind. She didn’t want to be considerate of her fans’ feelings; she wanted to hold Moca’s damn hand. Chisato wanted the world to know that Moca was _hers_. And more importantly, she wanted them to know she was Moca’s too.

Except she didn’t. It just was a nice fantasy. Practicality and cowardice were the same instincts and they kept Moca and Chisato squarely on the appropriate sides of the table.

But still, Chisato enjoyed the last few seconds she got to hold her girlfriend’s hand in public. Even if a handshake was hardly how she ever imagined it.

Their time was almost up. Chisato leaned forward with hand still clasped and whispered to Moca with a smirk in her voice:

“Don’t ever get in someone else’s line again. You can’t have more than one favorite, right?”

“Next!”

Moca broke away red cheeks and a sneaky smile. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a stack of handshake tickets as thick as her thumb. Moca winked as she waved them like a stack of cash. “See you in a few.”

And she turned and marched down the line, past the rest of the waiting fans and returned to the back of the line. Chisato found she suddenly had the strength to push through the rest of the day.

For many months after, a rumor swirled around that Chisato Shirasagi loved Aya Maruyama so much, just seeing someone dressed in her merchandise was enough to improve her mood for the better. Sales of Aya’s merch rose as every Chisato fan clamored to don their battle gear to cheer up their oshi. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have any affect and eventually they gave up when the little stunt had disastrous effects on Chisato’s poll rankings. But still, long time fans always swore she’d never smiled so beautifully as she did that day after the Aya stan in full battle gear shook her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Breadlover69: Thx 4 the tix. Looked good af in the outfit too  
> BoppinToTheToppin: Keep it! I’ve got like 12 ayachan happis. I want my jorts back tho.


End file.
